Unlikely Beginnings
by authorinprogress97
Summary: Josie Pacelli and Nick Stokes were the closest of friends. They weren't always that close when they were first starting out though, as Riley Adams finds out.
1. The First Meeting

_**The story has been stewing in my mind for quite a while, so I'm finally writing it down before I forget about it… again. Well, I'm fairly new to the CSI world so bear with me if there are any mistakes and feel free to correct me. Mind you, I say correct me, not tear my story apart and completely destroy me.**_

_**Constructive criticism and suggestions are welcome, but flames will be ignored and might be spat back. Just saying. Now, without further ado (how fancy), I give you '**_**Unlikely Beginnings**_**'!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI… if I did, things would have turned out very differently.**_

_**~C~S~I~**_

Riley Adams found that the Clark County crime lab was often pretty quiet at six in the morning. Therefore, when she heard angry shouting coming from the break room, it was quite alarming. Deciding she had done enough paperwork for the night, Riley abandoned it and decided to head for the break room to get some coffee and find out what all the noise was.

When she entered, she found Josephine Pacelli yelling in Italian and chasing after a laughing Nick Stokes, who seemed to be holding a notebook in his hands. Catherine Willows was sitting at a table on the side, watching them with an amused smile on her face and sipping her coffee.

Riley shook her head and headed towards the coffee machine, grinning at the antics of her colleagues. When she first started working here, she noticed how close the two of them were.

Even when they weren't working on the same case, they were in sync with each other. They seemed to know what the other needed, but also how to push each others' buttons. Of course, it was never anything serious and Riley found it very amusing to watch.

Riley noticed a piece of paper on the ground and picked it up. She turned it over and found herself looking at a picture. It was of a young Josie lying down on a hospital bed with a black eyes and bruises blooming on her face. She was grimacing into the camera, but her blue eyes held a twinkle of amusement. One hand was in her sandy blonde hair, trying to untangle it while her other hand was holding her abdomen.

"What have you got there?" Catherine asked her, looking over her shoulder to look at the picture. Catherine's eyes widened. "Where'd you get that?"

"I found it on the floor," Riley answered, confused.

"Josie, I didn't know you still had this," Catherine said, turning to said CSI, who had ended up on the floor on top of Nick, trying to wrestle the notebook out of his hands.

Josie and Nick stopped for a moment, both of them looking at Catherine, ignoring the looks they were getting from Riley and Catherine.

"Still had what?" Josie asked. Taking advantage of his lack of concentration, she snatched her notebook out of Nick's hands before standing up and looking at the picture held in Catherine's hands. "Where'd you get that? It's supposed to be in – oh."

She had been flipping through her notebook as she had been saying that before realizing the photo had fallen out as they were running around the break room.

"You actually kept that?" Nick said, surprised.

"Since its right in front of you, that much is obvious," Josie replied drily. "I have to admit, you couldn't have picked a worse time to take a picture, Stokes."

Riley eyed the photo, taking note of Josie's injuries. "What happened?"

"A kidnapping, torture and a bullet to the gut, if I'm not wrong," Josie answered, almost casually. "It happened years ago. It's a long story."

"I've got time," Riley answered immediately. It was obvious she was curious to find out what had happened. From all her experience working with Josie, she knew the older CSI would not usually allow something to happen to her.

"Well, if you say so," Josie said, shrugging. "But we need to start from the beginning. To when Nick and I met, to be exact."

Josie sat down at the table at the side, next to Catherine, and looked at the picture she had taken out of Riley's hands. Nick and Riley sat in the chairs opposite and Riley cradled her cup of coffee.

"It was about eleven years ago…" Josie recounted.

* * *

><p>Josephine Pacelli entered the Clark County crime lab. She looked at her new workplace, wondering if she had done the right thing by moving to Las Vegas. She immediately shook those thoughts away. It was too late for her to go back to Seattle. She had burned all her bridges with a vengeance. Even if she hadn't, she didn't have anything for her there.<p>

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and headed towards the receptionist – a brunette with a cheerful smile.

"I'm looking for Gil Grissom," Josie told the receptionist, looking at the slip of paper that had the words 'Gil Grissom' written in a neat scrawl and added, "I'm Josephine Pacelli, the transfer from Seattle."

"It's down the hall. The office right at the end," she replied, pointing down the hallway.

Josie thanked her and made her way to the end of the hall. There was a wooden door with a plaque reading 'Gil Grissom' on it. She knocked on the door, entering when she heard a voice telling her to come in.

Entering the office, she noticed labeled jars of animal parts and fetal pigs around the office. At the desk was her new boss, Dr Gil Grissom. He motioned for her to sit down and she sat down.

"I'm Josephine Pacelli," she said, holding her hand out for him to shake it. "You can call me Josie."

"Welcome to the Clark County crime lab," he replied, shaking her hand firmly.

"It's good to be here, sir."

"Please, call me Grissom. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to need some blood."

Josie's eyes widened. "Blood?"

"Yes. Only a pint or two," he replied, taking out the equipment required to draw blood. "Standard procedure."

"Uh… okay…" she said, sticking out her arm. He drew the blood quickly and she was quickly patched up.

"Catherine Willows will be showing you how we do things here at Vegas," he said, motioning to a strawberry blonde woman who was standing at the side. Josie stood and shook the woman's hand.

"Welcome to Vegas," Catherine said, a warm smile on her face. "I'd show you around the lab and introduce to the team, but most of them are at their scenes and we have our own crime scene to attend to."

"I've been itching to get back to work. I just didn't think it'd be this soon," Josie said, giving the older woman a brief smile.

"Welcome to Sin City."

_**/*\/*\/*\**_

Josie ducked under the crime scene tape, following behind Catherine. She had her CSI kit in hand and her new badge and piece on her hip, along with the CSI windbreaker she was wearing. It almost felt like Seattle, except for the tiny fact that it was a lot cooler in Vegas at night.

They entered the house and went up the stairs towards one of the bedrooms. In the middle of the bed, there was a girl that looked about twenty lying on the bed. She could have been sleeping if it weren't for the knife sticking out of her heart.

Josie's head tilted to the side as she sighed sadly. The vic couldn't have been any older than she was, yet she was going to be another body on the coroner's slab. No matter how many times she saw that, she still couldn't help the brief wave of grief that swept over her.

"Catherine, what do we – " she heard a voice say and Josie turned around. "You're not Catherine."

_No shit, Sherlock_, Josie thought, barely repressing the urge to roll her eyes. "Obviously not," she answered sarcastically. Well, between the two comments, that one was less scathing. "I'm Josie Pacelli." She stuck out her hand.

He shook her hand, looking at her suspiciously. "Nick Stokes."

"I'm the transfer from Seattle," she added.

"Ah… the newbie."

"I resent that! I spent four years at the Seattle crime lab," she replied, bristling slightly. She didn't want to be treated like a rookie after having to endure a year of that back when she really _was_ a rookie. She wasn't green and didn't want to be treated like she was.

"Well, you're not in Seattle anymore," he drawled, his Texan accent prominent.

"I'm still a CSI. A CSI who happens to have experience."

"Are you implying I don't have experience?"

"No, not implying. I'm _saying_ you don't have experience. Or at least, not as much experience as I do."

"Well, it doesn't matter who has more experience," he said, walking towards the body. "It seems like a suicide."

"Well, it's not."

Nick's eyebrow rose. "Why do you say that?"

"The angle the blade is being pushed in is pretty awkward for her to do it herself. It's a homicide," Josie explained slowly, pointing to the knife.

"Right," Nick scoffed, crossing his arms.

"You don't believe me? Well, wait and see, Stokes. I'm gonna show you that I'm right."

As Nick opened his mouth to reply, Catherine walked in, immediately noticing the tension between the two CSIs.

_Oh boy_, Catherine thought as she looked at them scowling at each other. "Nick, I see you've met our newest CSI."

"Unfortunately," he muttered under his breath.

Josie glared at him from where she was kneeling in front of her kit, getting out her gloves and putting them on. With her camera around her neck, Josie began taking photos of the body.

Nick and Catherine searched the room for evidence. Occasionally, Josie could be seen pausing for a moment and staring sadly at the body. As soon as she was done, she took a closer look at the knife handle before taking out her fingerprint dust and fingerprint brush. She sprinkled some dust onto the handle and brushed it, revealing some partial prints.

Josie smirked. One of the prints was facing towards the blade, indicating that it was thrust into the woman's chest by another person.

"I got some partials," Josie called out. "And one of the prints was facing the blade while four others were facing the opposite side." She smirked at Stokes.

He grumbled under his breath. It was obvious he didn't really like being wrong, and being corrected by the new girl couldn't have felt that good either.

"Well, this just turned from a suicide to a homicide," Catherine said as they looked down at the body.

_**~C~S~I~**_

_**So, there you go! The first chapter. Review and tell me what you think, yeah?**_

_**~Alex**_


	2. It Begins

_**Well, I'm sorta shocked that so many people are reading the story. I dunno if you guys like it or not cuz you're not reviewing… *hint hint***_

_**Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, Warrick would be alive and he and Catherine would have their happily ever after. Since he's not and they don't, I obviously don't own it then.**_

_***UNLIKELY~BEGINNINGS***_

Riley chuckled. "Wow, you guys didn't exactly start off on the right foot, did you?"

"Well, no," Josie answered wryly. She was absentmindedly flicking the end of the picture Riley found. Riley didn't think the older CSI still realised the photo was in her hands. That was how into the story she was. "At the time, I was pretty sure I'd hate Nick forever."

"Still in the room," Nick said, rolling his eyes. "You weren't exactly that wonderful to work with either."

Josie stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, you were quiet for once. I almost thought you left the room. Of course, most of the arguments we got into then _you_ started because you didn't know when to keep your mouth shut."

"I was just stating my opinion."

"Well, your opinions were brutal and idiotic."

"I was being honest."

"Brutally and idiotically honest. And you wonder why you don't have a girlfriend…"

"I don't have a girlfriend because I choose not to have one," Nick said, crossing his arms.

"Right…" Josie replied, rolling her eyes and leaning back against the chair.

"I bet I couldn't say the same for you."

As Josie opened her mouth to reply, Riley quickly cut in, knowing that if she didn't stop them now, they would go on and on and she might never get the full story. "Guys! No offense, but I'd like to know what happened sometime tonight."

Both of them blinked. It was almost as if they had forgotten there were other people in the room with them.

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Imagine having to deal with that for the past eleven years. In fact, try dealing with that when they first started. It was awful."

"To say the least," Josie snorted. "I remember we were close to exchanging blows a few times. One time I actually _did_ slap Nick."

"I remember that," Nick said, rubbing his cheek subconsciously, as if he was remembering the sting of the slap. There was a pause. "I guess I sort of deserved it."

"Yes, I guess you sort of did," Josie said, nodding after a slight pause of her own. She turned to Riley, continuing her story. "Well, after that disastrous meeting, we figured out the murder and sadly enough, we were put together for a few more cases. The reason for my injuries here," Josie tapped the photo, "happened not too long after that."

"It was what? About two months after that?" Catherine asked, sipping her coffee.

"Six weeks," both Nick and Josie corrected at the same time.

Catherine laughed. "You two have been working with each other for too long."

"Possibly," Nick shrugged, grinning at Josie, who rolled her eyes.

"Well," Josie said, continuing the story. "Six weeks after that _fateful_ meeting and many more disastrous encounters after that, Nick and I were put on _another_ case together. That one was a lot more different than others we had worked on together…"

* * *

><p>Josie got out of her car, covering a yawn with her hand. It was three in the morning and she really wished Grissom hadn't called her, but she was on call. She badly needed the sleep, but duty called. At least she racked up some overtime hours.<p>

Grabbing her kit from the passenger seat, she rubbed her eyes and stretched, deciding that this was the most she could wake herself up without a shot of caffeine into her system. She grinned slightly.

_I could count on my hand the amount of days I'm fully awake without the help of caffeine_, she thought wryly. Ducking under the tape, she showed her badge and made her way into the crime scene. It was a fairly big house with a well-groomed lawn and was situated in a well-off neighbourhood. _Nobody's safe in this town._

Entering the house, she immediately made her way to the bedroom, where the crime scene was. As she opened the door to the room, she bit back a groan and looked up to the ceiling, as if for guidance, when she saw who she was working the case with.

Nick Stokes was the absolutely last person she wanted to be working the case with. The two of them just couldn't get along, even if they were a good team. She could barely handle him when she was halfway through her shift with at least ten cups of coffee. She didn't know if she could handle him when she was only half awake with no caffeine in her system at all.

She set her kit down, causing Nick to look at her.

"What've we got?" Josie asked, opening her kit and taking out a pair of latex gloves, putting them on.

"Good morning to you too," he replied. Josie glared at him. She didn't have the energy to deal with his sarcasm. He managed to pick up on her irritation and immediately filled her in. "Vic's name is Alyssa Montague. Twenty-three years old and a waitress at a nearby diner."

Josie raised an eyebrow. "She's a waitress and she managed to afford a house like this?"

Josie could barely afford the house she was currently living in, and she was sharing the mortgage with her best friend from high school, Jennalyn Marsden.

"Her daddy's loaded," a gruff voice answered and Josie turned, greeting the newcomer, Jim Brass, with a smile.

"If he's loaded, why is she working? She's obviously a daddy's girl," she noted, looking at the pictures in the bedroom of the vic and an older man, presumably the vic's father.

_They have the same smile_, Josie thought distractedly.

Both men shrugged and Josie turned her attention to the body. She was tied to the bed by her wrists and there was a clean cut at her throat. It was most likely the COD, but David, the coroner, would be able to confirm that. What caught Josie's eye, however, was that Greek alpha that was carved into the young woman's abdomen.

She felt bile rise up in her throat, but swallowed it down. If there was one thing she didn't want to do, it was to throw up in front of others, let alone in front of _Stokes_.

Clamping her lips shut, she looked around the room and cleared her throat, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, it looks like we've got work to do."

_**/*\/*\/*\**_

Thankfully for Josie, Stokes had decided to work quickly and quietly. He seemed to have picked up on her irritation and decided not to annoy her. However, she had a feeling it wouldn't last long.

As they finished up, Stokes looked over at her and smirked. "Did the call interrupt something?"

Josie looked up at him, snapping her kit shut. "What?"

"Were you interrupted while you were in bed?" he asked almost innocently.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Josie smirked back, making her way out of the room.

"Oh, so you've got something to hide, rookie?"

Her eyes snapped back to him. "_Don't_. Call. Me. Rookie!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

He merely raised an eyebrow. "Make me."

She knew he loved winding her up and she should have known better than to react, but there was something about him that made her want to beat his head in with her shoe.

"Stronzo," she growled under her breath. "Fastidioso, idiota arrogante." (Asshole. Annoying, arrogant moron.)

Rolling her eyes, she made her way out of the room, out of the house and into her car. Setting down her kit and the evidence she had collected in the passenger seat next to her, she sat in the driver's seat and took a deep breath, her hands holding the steering wheel in a tight grip.

Josie didn't know what it was about Nick Stokes that made it so easy for him to get under her skin. What she did know was that he knew he could get under her skin and he was taking advantage of it.

Shaking away that thought, she took another deep breath and turned the engine on. Sitting there for a moment, she let the car warm up, listening to the engine of her old Toyota Camry purr. Pushing away thoughts of Nick Stokes and how annoying she found him, Josie made her way to the crime lab.

_***UNLIKELY~BEGINNINGS***_

_***cough cough* Well… I suppose it could have been better written. And longer. Well, better in general, maybe. What do you guys think? Review please!**_

_**~Alex**_


	3. Dead End

_**Third chapter only so far… I knew it wouldn't be easy to write this fanfic, but I hadn't expected myself to be on the verge of a writer's block! Ah well… I'll pull through!**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own CSI, obviously.**_

_**/|\/|\/|\**_

"Have you - ?" Josie started as she entered the DNA lab, only to be harshly interrupted.

"No, I have not," Marina Garret, the DNA lab tech interrupted aggressively. "So help me, Pacelli, if you come in here one more time in the next hour, I will handcuff you to your desk and gag you!"

Josie at least had the grace to smile sheepishly. "I know, but I'm impatient."

"Well," Marina said, dragging the word out as she kept her eyes locked on the computer screen, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I might be good, but I'm not that good. Now, go to the break room, get yourself some coffee and _relax_."

Josie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, _mother_." She smiled sadly at the petite lab tech. "You know, you're the mother I should have had."

Marina smiled back. "I know, baby. Now get."

Josie chuckled and made her way to the break room. She knew the forty three year old lab tech really _would_ handcuff her to her desk and gag her until she could get her work done. She also wished that Marina really _was_ her mother, and all of her other siblings' too.

She reached the break room and made a beeline for the coffee machine. As she poured herself the coffee, her cell phone rang. Putting the coffee pot down, she checked the name on the screen before answering it with a smile.

"Hey Eli," Josie said.

"_Heyya lil sis_," Elijah Pacelli, Josie's eldest brother and the eldest Pacelli child answered. "_How're you doing?_"

Josie laughed. "God Eli. Your accent is so thick."

"_You try coming back home some time instead of going to other crime labs out of town_," he said. Josie could tell he was rolling his eyes. "_Danny misses you._"

Shaking her head, Josie sat down. "Are we talking about the same Danny who tripped me in the cafeteria on my first day of high school?"

"_The same Danny that cried at your graduation._"

"We must be talking about different Dannys then. He didn't cry at my graduation," she snorted.

"_Yes he did, baby girl. We all did_," he said softly.

"Not mom."

"_You don't care that she didn't cry. None of us did. If she had, one of us might have clocked her. Mama Messer definitely would have._"

"I can totally see that happening," she laughed, before sighing softly. "I miss you. All of you."

"_Great_," he replied. "_Pack up your things, get a transfer and get your ass back home._"

"You know I can't do that."

"_Yes, you can. You just don't want to._"

"You're right," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Eli, I _just_ got settled in. I don't want to have to relocate already."

"_Fine,_" he sighed. "_Just don't wait too long to come back home, okay baby girl? We all miss you, believe it or not._"

"I'll try. Give Ellie and Brian my love."

Josie hung up the phone and sighed. She missed her family. She really did. She just didn't know what was stopping her from moving back to her hometown. Well, actually, she did.

Her mother had been the perfect mother, up until Josie's younger sister, Emilia – or Mia, as she preferred to be called – was born. Josie had been about fourteen when her father had attempted to kill her mother.

As the door creaked open, Josie shook away thoughts of that night. She wasn't fourteen anymore. She was a twenty seven year old woman who was capable of taking care of herself and her family.

"I heard Marina kicked you out of the DNA lab," Stokes commented.

Josie shrugged. "More or less."

They sat in silence for a moment. Josie simply couldn't sit still. If she wasn't tapping her fingers against the table, she was checking over her notes again. When she started tapping out a rhythm as she read through her notes, a hand covered hers.

She looked up. Stokes was looking at her, irritation plain on his face. His hand covered hers, pinning them to the table.

"Would you quit that?" he snapped.

Josie glared at him. "Deal with it, cowboy."

"Cowboy?" he snorted. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"I'd say pig-headed moron, but it's a bit of a mouthful."

"So is stuck up prick, but you don't see me stop myself from calling you that."

"No you don't, do you? You can't seem to censor yourself."

"I don't see why you should."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

They were arguing again. The two of them always seemed to argue whenever they were put in a room together. Sometimes the others found it amusing, other times they found it annoying. They couldn't figure out why those two seemed to argue so much.

Their dislike had been instantaneous, yet they were more alike than the other could have guessed. If they could only put their differences aside, they would have found that they were quite alike. Perhaps it was because they were both strong-willed and stubborn.

Josie just found Nick Stokes extremely annoying. She didn't like his condescending attitude towards her. She had worked her ass off back in Seattle to earn the respect of her co-workers. Being the only woman on the CSI team had taught her that it didn't do any good to show weakness in front of her co-workers. She had to work twice as hard to earn half of her co-workers respect.

Maybe she was a little too hard on him, but he wasn't exactly trying to make friends with her either. Josie didn't see why _she_ had to be the one to extend the olive branch. She had tried that with her mother and got bitch slapped for her troubles.

Marina entered the room, seeing the two CSIs arguing with each other again. She shook her head. Those two could argue about the sky being blue and the grass being green. She spotted their intertwined hands on the table and smiled softly.

She hadn't known Josie for long, but in the time she had known her, she found that Josie had kept walls up around her. She had a feeling that if anybody could break down her defenses, it would be Nick. She didn't know how, but she knew that he would.

"Sweetie, I have you results," Marina called out. They stopped bickering and looked over at the lab tech. Josie stood up, her hand sliding out from under Stokes'.

Josie had to suppress the blush that was threatening to colour her cheeks. She hadn't realised that her hand was under his. Her hand was tingling and she scratched at it absentmindedly.

She smiled at Marina, taking the results from out of her hand. "Thanks."

"I paged you, but you didn't answer," Marina said, her eyes twinkling.

Josie checked her pager and, sure enough, Marina had paged her. She was so caught up with arguing with Stokes that she hadn't realised. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I can see that you were a little busy."

Josie didn't know why, but she could feel blood rush to her cheeks. She coughed, looking intently at the results in her hand.

"Right," she spoke to the pieces of paper in her hand. "Thanks. Again."

Marina smiled knowingly at her before leaving the break room, leaving Josie to read the results in her hand. A frown creased her forehead as she read.

When she finished reading through it, she sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"Nothing," she muttered. "No foreign DNA, no foreign prints. If I didn't know any better, it'd look like she killed herself!"

"What do you have there?" Stokes asked, frowning over at him. Josie almost snapped at him to mind his own business before remembering that he was working the case with her. She almost sighed when she remembered that, but stopped herself before it could escape.

"It's clean," Josie sighed, passing him the results. "Either he's really good, or we're really bad. I really hope it's the former."

Nick pressed his lips together, his eyes scanning the sheet of paper quickly. She was right, not that he really doubted it. In the time that he had worked with her, he had to admit that she was good at her job. He would never admit that to anyone out loud, however, least of all to Pacelli herself.

"We'll get him," he said finally. Josie eyed him skeptically, but refrained from saying anything. She could see that he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her.

"Hmm," Josie hummed. Sighing slightly, she turned to her coffee and drained the mug, going to the sink and rinsing it. "Well, I'm going back to work."

Without another word, she left the break room, leaving Nick standing there, frowning at the piece of paper in his hand.

She shook her head as she made her way to her office to go over the case file again. It seemed that she and Nick had a somewhat civil conversation. What had the world come to?

* * *

><p>"Our first truly puzzling case," Josie sighed as she slowly brought herself back to the present. Riley looked at the older CSI. She could see her eyes were slightly glazed over as she saw in her mind the events playing. "I wasn't used to letting a case go unsolved, but I had to let that one go. There was nothing to convict anybody. I had to leave it."<p>

Nick chuckled. "You were so upset."

"So were you," she reminded.

"Yes, but I didn't try to punch out my locker."

"Punch out your locker?" Riley asked. She was learning things about her senior that she never knew before.

Josie smiled sheepishly. "Well, you know how we New Yorkers are. Especially someone with Italian blood. Hot headed bunch, we are."

* * *

><p>Josie leaned her head against her locker, replaying the conversation in her head. She banged her head lightly against the locker, sighing.<p>

_*flashback*_

"_Josie," Grissom called. Said CSI looked up from the dress she was examining. She tilted her head, indicating that she was listening. "Meet me in my office in twenty minutes."_

_Her brow furrowed, but she nodded. She started placing everything back into an evidence bag and putting it into the evidence box. She wondered what Grissom could probably want from her. Staring at the box in her hands, she sighed._

_She had been going over the evidence collected with a fine-toothed comb for the past two hours, but couldn't find anything incriminating. The Alyssa Montague murder was really eating away at her. There wasn't anything to suggest that there was anything that wasn't supposed to be there._

If only we could just find the murder weapon_, she thought exasperatedly._

_None of the blades found in the house matched any of the cuts on Alyssa, indicating that the murderer either brought his own blade or brought it back with him._

_She frowned. She doubted it was a blade from the house. It was obvious that the murder was premeditated and was planned to the finest detail. What disturbed Josie the most was the alpha that was carved onto the poor woman's abdomen. Other than the fact that it was done peri-mortem, it was so precise and deep. It wasn't exactly a small carving either. It spanned from just below her breasts to about two inches below her bellybutton._

_It infuriated and sickened her that someone could have done that to an innocent person. Alyssa Montague had managed to get an internship at Colton General, one of Las Vegas' top hospitals. She was going to become a trauma surgeon. She was working at the nearby diner so she wouldn't have to depend on her father so much. She was a young woman with so much potential, and now she was just another body on the coroner's slab._

_She scowled, placing the box back in its place a little more forcefully than needed. She glanced at her watch, seeing that it was time to see Grissom in his office. She hung up her lab coat and made her way to the familiar office. She knocked on the door, hearing a faint 'come in'._

_She opened the door and Grissom took his glasses off, motioning for her to sit down. She sat down a little wearily._

"_You wanted to see me?" Josie asked._

_Grissom sighed, making her frown slightly."Yes." He placed his glasses on the table and placed his fingertips together, making Josie think of Sherlock Holmes and Dumbledore. "You are a wonderful CSI and I know you're used to closing most of your cases, but the Alyssa Montague case…"_

_He trailed off, causing her to sit up straight. "What about it?" she questioned, a slight frostiness in her tone._

_He took a breath, nodding slightly as if he was trying to reassure himself that what he was doing was right. "I'm taking you off the case."_

"_But, Grissom – " she protested, standing._

_He raised a hand, cutting her off sharply. "My decision is final." He looked at her mournfully. "I can't waste anymore resources on a case that's going nowhere. I'm sorry."_

_He looked regretful, but Josie was too furious to see it. she just stared at him for a moment before walking out of the office. She knew he was right, but she felt like she should have _done_ something. She shook her head, walking to the locker room. It was about time she went home anyway._

_*flashback*_

She kicked her locker viciously before kicking again when her frustration didn't disappear. She banged her fist against the locker, startling when she heard someone clear their throat.

"You might not want to dent that," an unfortunately familiar Texan voice said. "You won't get a new door for weeks."

She scowled. "Buzz off, Stokes."

"Nice comeback."

Josie didn't reply. She merely sneered at him, pulling her locker open with so much force that it banged against the locker next to it.

"I see Grissom pulled you off the case," he commented. She glanced at him sharply. He was leaning against the entrance of the locker room. Josie contemplated throwing something at him, but she couldn't find anything appropriate. She rummaged through her locker, getting her bag and strapping her gun onto her belt.

"Buzz off," she repeated, slinging her bag onto her back.

"I'm not happy about it either," he continued, as if she hadn't said anything.

She glared at him. "I don't care. Now get out of my way."

He stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. "I'd rather not."

"Why not?" she asked angrily, trying to push him out of the way. He grabbed her wrists, stilling her hands.

"Because you're angry, and when people drive angry, bad things happen."

"I can handle myself just fine," she sneered, wrenching her wrists out of his grip. She didn't like how he could keep touching her so comfortably. She didn't even like him, damn it! She didn't really like being touched, let alone by Stokes.

He just stared her down, his arms crossed tight against his chest. They stared each other down, waiting for the other to crack.

"I'm not angry," Josie finally relented. "I'm just upset." She pursed her lips, a little annoyed that she had given up to him so easily. "Now, get out of my way before I show you what angry _really_ looks like."

He moved out of the way, letting her walk past him. He watched her walk away, feeling a little concerned about her. Nick shook his head. Josie Pacelli was a stubborn woman. She also knew how to take care of herself, as she had just told him. So why did he feel so _protective_ over her?

He shook his head. He didn't want to think about it. All he wanted to do was go home and get some well deserved sleep.

The last thing he wanted to think about was the fiery blonde New York native.

So why couldn't he stop thinking about her?

_**/|\/|\/|\**_

_**A longer than usual chapter for you guys, coz the school year has started and I might not have as much time to write, so the next update might be a while. I'll try hard to update soon though. Just remember, grades come first!**_

_**As usual, please, please, **_**please**_** review!**_

_**~Alex**_


	4. Going Nowhere

_**I finally managed to find some time out of my already hectic schedule to write! Whoo! Well, enough chit chat. Here's the next chappie of Unlikely Beginnings!**_

_**P.S. I know I made some allusion (?) to a traumatic night happening in Josie's childhood, but it was supposed to be when she was sixteen, not fourteen. I don't know how my fingers typed fourteen… Weird.**_

_**Disclaimer: You didn't think, I'd forget this, did you? I don't own CSI or anything affiliated with it. I only own the Pacelli family, Jenna and the sick, twisted serial killer that came from my sick, twisted mind… I'm pretty sure I got all my friends worried.**_

_**CSI**_

Josie slammed the door of her car, getting her kit out of the passenger seat. She stretched, trying to keep herself awake. Almost three months into the job and she still wasn't used to the hours. She contemplated switching to the day shift, but where was the fun in that? As her cousin used to say, all the crazies came out after the sun went down, except in New York.

Besides, she was comfortable working with everyone from the graveyard shift. She rolled her eyes. Well, everyone except for Stokes.

She made her way to the crime scene, this time an alleyway. She ducked under the crime scene tape after flashing her badge. She looked at the victim, once again a female in her early to late twenties. The vic had blonde hair and was covered with a blanket. She looked so peaceful that for a moment, Josie thought she was sleeping, until she saw the blood. She smiled at the CSI working with her tonight, Sara Sidle.

"Marissa Kane, 25. A couple of teenagers were playing around here and one of them tripped over her. Thought she was asleep, until they saw the blood," Sara said, answering Josie's unspoken question. They both studied the victim for a moment.

"She's so young," Josie sighed. Sara smirked at her.

"She can't be any older than you," Sara pointed out.

Josie shrugged. "True, but she's still too young to die, let alone in such a violent way." She looked at the vic sadly.

"Well, let's start processing the body," Sara said, breaking the silence. Josie nodded and pulled on a pair of gloves.

Just as she was about to uncover the body, she heard an unfortunately familiar voice greet, "Good evening, ladies."

She groaned. Of all the CSIs that were available, it just _had_ to be Stokes. She stared up into the sky, thinking, _what did I do to deserve this punishment?_

Spending time with Nick Stokes was just about appealing to Josie as getting shot in the gut then being run over by a truck, twice. She closed her eyes, praying that it was just a nightmare. That hope was dashed when she heard Stokes call out irritatingly, "Oh, Pacelli, I didn't see you there. What are you doing out from your cage?"

Josie gritted her teeth, telling herself that it wouldn't be worth it to punch Stokes, no matter how satisfying it would feel. She didn't want to lose her job. Still, Stokes made it hard to remember that whenever he opened his mouth. She didn't care if he _was_ attractive.

Her eyes shot open. Did she honestly just think Stokes was attractive? _Stokes_, of all people. She shook her head. Perhaps she was a little bit more sleep deprived than she thought.

She scowled at Stokes before smiling sweetly at him. "I could ask you the same question," she replied in a sugary sweet voice. "In fact, I can't believe you're even let out of the house most days."

Sara stifled a snicker, keeping her eyes trained on the photographs she was capturing. She found it amazing that two people could hate each other so much yet be able to work together so well. She smiled secretly to herself, remembering the bet that was running against the both of them.

"That's something coming from you," he retorted. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"Yes, I have. Have you?" Josie shot back. "I have seen Chihuahuas with prettier faces than you."

"Really now? I have a few people who would disagree with you."

"Guys don't count, Stokes."

His cheeks coloured slightly. "They weren't guys, Pacelli. They were perfectly sane females."

"_Girls_, then?" she snorted. "How old were they? Sixteen? I think I can excuse them for their inexperience." She smirked. "I knew you couldn't handle women, let alone a real woman."

"And who would you consider a real woman? You?"

"Not necessarily, although you wouldn't even be able to handle _me_."

"You wanna bet?"

"If you two _children_ are done," Sara interrupted loudly, trying to suppress a smirk. "We have a body to process."

They glared at each other, communicating to each other with their eyes that it wasn't the last of it. Sara snorted softly. It was amusing to listen to those two bicker, but it did get irritating after a while. After all this time, she still didn't understand why Grissom insisted on putting those two on the same case together.

Josie's eyes shot to the vic and she knelt down next to her, removing the blanket. Her lips thinned. "Long gash across the jugular. Deep enough to cause death, but shallow enough for it to be slow," she stated. Her eyes made their way down the body. "Multiple lacerations on the arms and legs." Her lip curled when she saw the huge Greek beta carved onto the woman's abdomen. "Carving was probably made post-mortem."

Her blue eyes shot to Sara, darkened to a navy blue. "Serial killer?" she asked.

Sara's grip tightened on her camera slightly. She shook her head, her shoulder length hair whipping into her face. "It's too early to tell."

Josie let the blanket cover the body, feeling slightly sickened. Working in this line of work as long as she had, not a lot made her sick. However, looking at the work of this bastard made her sick to the stomach. That he could so carelessly and unfeelingly leave a body out here, probably to rot…

She shook her head, shaking those thoughts away. If she kept thinking like that, she'd go crazy in two weeks tops.

_Leave work at work_, she told herself firmly. _You gotta leave work at work. Don't let it worm its way into your thoughts. It'll eat you alive._

Wordlessly, she started processing the scene. The other two CSIs looked at each other, a little alarmed at her mood change.

Finally, Josie sighed. "Guys, as much as you two would love standing there and looking pretty, we _do_ have a scene to process."

The three of them worked in silence for a while. Josie rolled her shoulders, feeling a little unsettled in the quiet. She sighed to herself. She knew she was acting a little out of sorts, but the phone call she had gotten before she left for work wasn't exactly the best news.

She didn't know what her mother was thinking when she called her, but ten seconds into the call and Josie already wanted to shoot herself. As usual, she was berating her about not coming back home and visiting. Ordinarily, she would have, but her mother had grown even more distant as the years went by. She tried to act the part of the caring mother, but she wasn't fooling anyone.

If anything, she had grown more spiteful of her children, especially her youngest. She held young Mia responsible for their father leaving her. It wasn't fair of her to blame Mia for that, considering the fact that Mia had been a baby when their father left.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. The last thing she needed to be was distracted while she was on the job.

Nick studied Pacelli as she worked. He couldn't help but notice how detached she was. To be honest, it worried him a little, not that he would ever admit it out loud.

"What's up with her?" he asked, nodding in Pacelli's general direction. Sara looked over to where he was indicating.

"I don't know," she answered, snapping another picture. She paused. "You have to admit, she _has_ only been here for three months, so we don't know her that well. It could be anything from a boyfriend to her house."

Nick felt like correcting her. He knew more about Pacelli than he let on. He knew more about her than he wanted to admit. He knew that she was very protective of her family. He definitely knew that she was single. He knew she was the eldest sister, but not the eldest sibling. He knew that she had a golden retriever she lovingly called "Cammie". He knew that she had at least two older brothers. He knew she found it irritating when people touched her without her consent. He knew that when she was frustrated, she'd run a hand through her bangs, ruffling it. He knew a lot about Pacelli from arguments and simply observing her. He knew more about her than he _wanted_ to know.

He shook his head. He was a CSI. Of course he would notice all that. It was his job to observe and analyse. This wasn't any different. The only difference was that he was observing and analyzing a colleague instead of a body or crime scene.

Three hours later and they were finally done. "The DNA lab is going to hate us tonight," Sara muttered as they brought the many bags of evidence back to their respective vehicles and to the lab.

Josie grinned tiredly at her. "It could be worse," she said breezily. "We could have given them degraded and almost unusable DNA for them to test." She placed the evidence in the backseat of her car and stretched leisurely. She got into the driver's seat and looked at Sara. "Do you need a ride?" she asked.

Sara shook her head. "It's alright. I drove here."

"Gotcha," Josie replied, closing the door. She leaned her head against the head rest, feeling uncharacteristically drained. Shaking her head to clear the fog that descended over her thoughts, she started the engine and made her way to the crime lab.

_**/*\/*\/*\**_

Josie lay on the couch, her eyes shut. She needed a break from death, blood and essentially everything that was connected to her job. Once again, there was no evidence that could be found. It was almost exactly like the Alyssa Montague murder. No evidence, just a dead body.

"Josie!" Sara yelled as she practically ran into the break room. Josie's eyes shot open, but she didn't get up. She merely inclined her head so she was looking at Sara.

"What's up?" she asked, getting herself upright.

Sara took a deep breath to calm herself down. "We found traces of foreign DNA in the wound. I checked it and – you're never gonna believe what I found."

Josie sat upright a little more, frowning slightly. "And?"

"There were traces of Alyssa Montague's DNA found in the wound."

"_What?_"

They both blinked at each other for a while before bolting to find their partner. They found him in his office, frowning over some notes. He looked up to see them panting slightly from their run and raised an eyebrow. They quickly talked aver each other, making it almost impossible for Nick to understand anything.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," he told them. They both looked at each other and took a deep breath. "What's going on?"

"There were traces of foreign DNA found in Marissa Kane's wound," Sara began. She looked at Josie, and she took it as her cue to continue.

"They ran it through the database and – you'll never believe whose it is." She paused dramatically for a moment. He rolled his eyes at her. "It's Alyssa Montague's."

That had him shooting out of his seat. "_What?_"

"That's what I said," she commented lightly. She glanced at Sara. "That could mean anything."

"Like?"

"Alyssa came back from the dead and went on a killing spree?" Josie answered cheekily.

"Funny," Nick snapped.

She held her hands up defensively. "Hey, I didn't know your sense of humor decided to take a vacation. Sor_ry_ for trying to lighten the atmosphere."

"There's a time and place for it, Pacelli."

"Well, with you, there never _is_ a time or place, is there?"

"That's because – "

"You have no idea how wrong the tail end of your conversation sounds like," Sara interjected. "Guys, case!"

"Ass," Josie snapped.

"Bitch," Nick snarled back.

"Bastard!"

"GUYS!" Sara shouted, getting their attention. "Do you need a time out?"

They both scrunched up their faces, but kept quiet. The last thing they wanted was to spend more time in each others' company than necessary. Sara would probably lock the both of them into a broom closet for five minutes.

"Now, joking aside," Sara looked sternly at Josie, "what could be the reason for Alyssa Montague's DNA to be on Marissa Kane?"

Josie immediately went into professional mode. "From our records, aside from the fact that they're both blonde and have blue eyes, there is nothing that could link them together. They went to different colleges, had completely different jobs that couldn't possibly cross, didn't live in the same neighbourhood and didn't even take the same transport! Alyssa rode her bike to work and Marissa walked." Irritation flashed through her crystal blue eyes. "They couldn't possibly be connected. At all."

"Well, there is _one_ way," Sara piped up. Nick's and Josie's eyes shot to her.

Despair flooded into Josie's eyes. She hated serial killers. She hadn't forgotten what the last one had nearly done to her. Twelve bodies. That was how long it took before they managed to catch the bastard. Even then, it wasn't as sweet as she had hoped. She had still felt the emptiness inside, as if she was still waiting for another body to show up.

"It's too early to tell," Stokes finally said. "We won't until – if another body appears."

Another body. It was one thing to see death every day, but there was something about serial killers that ate away at her soul and truly brought out the perversity and cruelty of the human mind. She sighed. It was her job to stop people like that so they wouldn't hurt innocent people.

"I gotta, go do something," Josie said suddenly. Her two partners glanced at each other as she exited Nick's office.

"Something's not right with her," Nick muttered, staring at her retreating back.

Sara chewed on her lip. "I'm sure it's just some family matters or something. Probably nothing big."

"Mm."

"What are you thinking?" Sara asked, leaning against his desk.

He looked up at her and sat back down. "Oh, nothing."

_*flashback*_

_Nick sighed. It had been a long day and the only thing he wanted was to go home and crash for the next few hours. He had been on for the last twenty eight hours and couldn't think of anything but his soft bed._

_As he neared the locker room, an angry voice penetrated the exhausted haze in his mind._

"_I said leave me alone, woman," a familiar voice snarled. Her New York accent thickened the angrier she got, he realised. "You? My mother? You haven't been _my_ mother for eleven years! You haven't been a mother to _any_ of us. Good_bye_."_

_He stood in the doorway of the locker room, watching her silently. She hung up, punching the button so forcefully that the phone squealed in protest. With a growl, she threw it into her bag, her right hand ruffling her bangs. She slung her bag on her shoulder, kicking her locker shut. She wasn't appeased, so she kicked it again. The metal groaned in protest._

"_I'm pretty sure we've been in a similar position before," he commented lightly. Her crystal blue eyes and darkened to navy. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a film of tears on those angry eyes. She wiped her eyes angrily._

"_What do you want, Stokes?" she asked in hard voice. The hand gripping her bag tightened. Her knuckles turned white._

"_I wanted to get my things and go home," he replied._

"_So go," she shot back, brushing past him. She walked away a few stops before Nick called her name. She paused, before turning back almost wearily. Her hand made its way to her bangs._

"_What's wrong with you?" he asked with a note of concern in his voice. She looked like she wanted to scowl, but couldn't seem to find the energy to do so._

"_If I won't tell anyone else," she said in a tired voice, "why should I tell you?"_

"_Because I already don't say anything you want to hear," he shrugged._

_She snorted. "I'm not telling you anything."_

_She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her once again. "Mom problems?"_

_Her back stiffened. He knew he had hit a nerve. A muscle in her back twitched, as if she wanted to turn back and hit him, but she didn't._

"_It's none of your business, Stokes," she hissed to him before walking away._

_This time, he let her leave._

_*flashback*_

"Nick?" Sara asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

He blinked at her, bringing himself out of that memory. Sara was right. There was still so much about Pacelli that they didn't know. There was a lot she didn't _want_ them to know. It didn't mean he couldn't try.

_**CSI**_

_**Another longer than usual chapter, cuz once again, hectic schedule. No jumping back to the present this chapter, but I hope you like it anyway. As usual, review please!**_

_**~Alex**_


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